Is Counter-Protest the Way to Do it? On hate, humanity, and systemic change.
I went today to show up at George Square at the anti-racist demonstration, which was organised to counter planned anti-immigration protests by far-right groups. It was a huge and powerful event, with thousands of people gathering in solidarity to refugees, to Palestine, to all those who face racist aggression in the UK and in Scotland (we mustn’t think that this sentiment doesn’t exist here, just because we see fewer extreme expressions of it than other places).
It feels important to me to take part in protests like this. My yoga practice has lit up an urgency in me to stand behind my beliefs in what is right. (Yoga is grounded in ethics at its heart, as I’ll say more about below) and the more I engage with my community, the more I want to stand in solidarity and put my body out on the street in vocal and visible support in the face of hateful rhetoric, harmful policy and just apathy. (I say ‘just’ but perhaps this is the most damaging of all..)
Why gather?
Nowadays we get most of our news from social media and online outlets, inundated with images of violence and the wildfire-speed spread of news of aggression and increasingly divisive narratives. It’s upsetting, angering, and lonely. There’s no space to share our anger and grief, no possibility for co-regulation when you sit at home and get overwhelmed and upset. And how could we possibly do something to change all this, just us, on our own?
So it’s good to gather - we return to the space of community and solidarity and feel that we’re not alone in the pangs of injustice we feel. There is so much power in being together.
Coming together also demonstrates (it’s a demonstration after all, isn’t it?) our sentiment as a collective - it’s a powerful message to society at large, to the marginalised groups that we stand in solidarity with, to law-makers (you would hope) - and also to those peddling the divisive rhetoric, that there is resistance, that they won’t get away with extremism and hate.
Collectives are powerful, but I am very wary of mob mentality, and this exists on both sides.
When the far-right speakers stood up today, the group around them were visibly riled up, activated and stirred to more jeers and hostile gestures towards the anti-racist side. But on “our side” too - some of the chants coming from the counter protest also spoke of hate - hate for racists and ‘fascists’ and ‘nazis’. Even “there are many more of us than you” is a taunt. It comes down to two sides barking at each other, and it gave me an unsettled feeling in my stomach.
I’ve been to a number of protests in the past few years, and this is the first time I’d been in something that felt like a stand-off. And while I think it’s important to show resistance to extremism, hatred, and prejudice, this dynamic doesn’t feel like something that is going to bring about any change. We can use protest to push back, but how can we build something productive, transformational? Resistance is the beginning, community gathering shows us we’re not alone, but how, then, can we use our collective power to change the dynamic in a more profound and far-reaching way?
What can we do to work towards change?
My experience working in the third sector showed me there must always be work happening on several levels. Public activism is great for all the reasons above - raising awareness, showing resistance, gathering community. Then, there must also be direct work, and also work for policy change (mindset change).
Direct action is care. If we’re talking about injustice and systemic harm, then who is being harmed? Humans - individuals, people. What individual people need is care, which can mean volunteering, but also just reaching out, asking what people need, asking if they’re okay, and being a friend. This has a greater impact than you can imagine.
What I really want to explore here is mindset change. I’m writing from the perspective of Yoga, which is about understanding yourself, how you think, how you act, and this system can provide us with very helpful perspectives to understand our own prejudice, as well as our apathy, and inaction.
Our divisions - with each other, and ourselves.
When we go to a protest, it’s because we are upset about a situation. We’re angry about injustice, and we show up to make a stand. This is good and important! But there’s a thing about being upset - it funnels our attention, which can be a tool for fighting for change, but it can also blind us to seeing each other. This is what I felt today in the midst of this face-off between the anti-immigration group and the anti-racism group.. We’re standing there, anti-each other, and it can be so easy to look at the opposite faction and dismiss them and their feelings, that’s at best - but at worst, we can raise up hatred towards each other. There wasn’t violence today, thank goodness, but we saw people flipping the finger at each other and shouting aggressive slogans.. But isn’t the point of our anti-racist protest about resisting hate, not stirring up more of it?
Yes, of course we are angry about injustice. But the people on the other side are also angry. They’re angry about feeling powerless, about a perceived threat, the feeling of precariousness and fear that’s stirred up by scapegoating and taglines like “stop the boats”. And before you think I’m being soft and making excuses for prejudice, I’m certainly not. I don’t believe there is any excuse for hatred. That’s exactly why it’s important that we look at our own attitudes to ‘the other side’ - and it’s just that, we’re also engaging in othering and division when we fail to consider the experience of those we are opposing.
In the Yoga Sūtra, there is a teaching, borrowed from Buddhism, about how to relate to each other, known as the Brahmaviharas, the ‘sublime attitudes’, or ‘four immeasurables’.
maitrī-karuṇā-muditopekṣaṇāṁ sukha-duḥkha-puṇyāpuṇya-viṣayāṇāṁ bhāvanātas citta-prasādanam
By cultivating an attitude of friendship toward those who are happy, compassion toward those in distress; joy toward those who are virtuous, and equanimity toward those who are non-virtuous, lucidity arises in the mind. YS I.33
Yoga is concerned with seeing clearly, acting skilfully, and understanding our own minds - and in the midst of human society (this is where we are!) these are essential tools in navigating the ups and downs of relationship and navigating conflict. Of particular relevance here is the last attitude - upekṣa. Translated often as ‘equanimity’, upekṣa implies holding some distance, when we are dealing with something or someone we find difficult, someone we consider ‘non-virtuous’ - and in this case, ‘the other side’.
We need this distance precisely because they are triggering, upsetting, and get us riled up. We hear their chants, we disagree with their position, and we get angry - justifiably so perhaps, but when we lose our cool, we lose the ability to deal, to consider productive steps to change, maybe even to build bridges between us.
This distance doesn’t imply not caring, nor does it mean dismissal or ignoring the challenging person, but rather placing some emotional distance between ourselves and the thing that disturbs us. When I stared across the barriers today at people with opinions and beliefs so opposite to my own, I can say, “how stupid, how aggressive, how hateful” or I can turn towards my own distaste and maybe hold it for a moment - know that to me, it is true, but if I hold on to what divides us and let disapproval grow into resentment, then I stop being able to have a dialogue with them. Would they ever want to have a dialogue with me? I don’t know, but if I start with an aggressive position, the possibility for that disappears.
I made a sign for the protest today, and thought a lot about what to put on it. Under the circumstances, I didn’t want to write things like “no to fascism” or “get off the streets, you racists” - slogans like that make me feel an unpleasant hostility germinate in my belly. Even while I’m protesting and resisting, I want to dream about the world that we can fight for, to have a vision of hope and understanding, and so I painted, “We are all Human”.
Yoga is the project of reclaiming the power of our humanity.
sarvabhūtastham ātmānam sarvabhūtāni cātmani |
īkṣate yogayuktātmā sarvatra samadarśanaḥ ||
Seeing the Self abiding in all beings and all beings in the Self, the self linked in yoga sees the same everywhere. Bhagavad Gītā VI. 29.
ātmaupamyena sarvatra samaṁ paśyati yo ‘rjuna |
sukhaṁ vā yadi vā duḥkhaṁ sa yogī paramo mataḥ ||
One who, with empathy and compassion within themselves, sees all things equally, whether it is happiness or suffering, is considered to be the highest yogī. Bhagavad Gītā VI.32
The Bhagavad Gītā, a text that teaches spiritual liberation (non-attachment) but also skillful action (doing the right thing) tells us again and again about meeting all things and all beings with equal amounts of presence. Just like the sūtra’s teachings on emotional distance, this implies being able to hold your judgement, and see through difference directly to the humanity of each person you meet.
‘We are all Humans’ means the asylum seekers, the people of different races and creeds, but also those of opposing political convictions. Is there really any difference between hating a refugee and hating a racist? I hate their racism, I hate the systemic injustice, but can I ever change these if I can’t meet the people who hold these beliefs as a human?
The anti-immigration protestors had a hashtag on their posters - “a force for good”. And surely, that’s what they believe. We are standing on one side thinking that good is one thing, they are standing on another side thinking that good is another thing. We all know that something isn’t right - we are all upset, angry, disappointed. Something isn’t right, and clearly it’s something other than what we’re arguing about - if both sides can be angry while occupying opposite views, then neither one is clearly the problem at hand.
There are always things that unite us, is it not true that we are all humans? We are all upset, that unites us. What are we both afraid of? What are we both yearning for?
Taking this view softens us, even amidst our deep sense of injustice, and I don’t believe this is a contradiction. I believe strongly in fighting for peace and understanding, and what we are fighting against isn’t each other, but the hardening that occurs when we fall into the inertia of flat truths like slogans, scapegoating, or “you’re wrong and I’m right” thinking. Any idea like “refugees are ruining this country” or “racists are all stupid” are notions that are easy to throw over the situation, but which stop us seeing each other, or ourselves.
Our humanity necessarily consists in our vulnerabilities, our fears, our yearnings. Our differences and our grasping at survival, often by emotional, blinded, unskillful means. We all have the tendency to fall into generalisation, blame, and hostility, especially when we are in pain.
You might think, this is all very nice, but there are unspeakable acts of violence occurring all around the world at this moment, how can we sit around and contemplate the humanity of their perpetrators? But firstly, know that this does not mean dismissing the horror of their actions. And secondly, most importantly, what happens if we do not see their humanity? What, in that case, happens to our own?
Perhaps, perhaps, two humans might be able to find dialogue together.
Two scapegoats fighting against each other, most likely not.
